A collection of 11 posts
Someone’s Sonnet Never Sent?
Even words on recycled paper say something new.
Black Tar Gone Gray
Sometimes a dandelion grows, too.
Soar Through a Supernova
Why not you?
The Poem of The Act of The Soul
In the poets, in you.
Everything is a sentence if you shout it.
A Twisted Bugle Baby
In your window.
For Reason, Et Al.
Enough of the words What of those out- Spoken or Spoke-in? In-way words Never in-the-way words Always want back out words. On outward words On sail to the sky Said and sailed words When the only cry Heard was the deep deep Down inside cry. How to cry! Without wells
As You Were
Melancholia just what the hell are ya? You’re a scab that heals then grows back. You’re a rabid monkey masseuse on my back. When I pick up a hope or a pen you sweet shatter Them into cans of empty color, good for nothing But a fresh coat
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